


The Hollow Games.

by MissWatts14



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cyberpunk, Gen, Mind Games, Survival of the Fittest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 13:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15664350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissWatts14/pseuds/MissWatts14
Summary: "A toast." The glass raises higher, catching the light and sending out small bursts of color. "To the Hollow Game!"Contestants race to out smart and out last each other in this twisted game of wits to become the best and astound the watchers of their nightmare.





	The Hollow Games.

“Get back here!” The cry was echoed throughout the street as several men raced around a corner. Heads turned, trying to spot the disturbances but soon giving up when they saw nothing out of the ordinary.   
“Gotta catch me, old man!” This was followed by a hoot of laughter and down another street the men fled. The laughter died away and was replaced with a wide grin as brown eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Two men broke away from the group and went in the opposite direction, eyes searching for the smaller figure.  
“Over there.” One of the men pointed towards an area where men and women were seemingly shoved and jostled by nothing. Looking closer, they could see a small, hunched over figure darting into an alley. The two darted forward, one removing a blocky disc and the other fumbling around in his pocket before pulling out two semi-translucent pebbles. The two shared grim smiles before they abruptly faded. The alley was one of the many dead ends in Locksville that only had backdoors to certain businesses and trash cans. It was one of the easiest places to corner someone, since the doors only opened from the inside and the trash cans didn’t open for just anyone, which made the situation even more baffling.  
“The little brat has to be in here somewhere,” the man with the disc said. The other nodded, eyes narrowing as he rolled the pebbles in his hand. “We’ll find ‘em,” he promised confidently. The two crept forward, muscles tensed and eyes darting everywhere, never resting on one place for more than a few seconds at a time.  
“And good luck to ya.” The whispered words were followed by a chuckle before the hunched figure walked away, safely across the street from the alley. The figure strolled past shops and carts brimming with wares until they were several streets away from the men. A wide, toothy grin split across their face as their eyes darted to and fro, watching for potential danger. Whistling a merry tune, they turned a corner and made their way towards a row of concrete and black glass benches. The figure hummed as they plopped down on the closest bench, eyes still peeled. Glancing left and right, they pouted as a woman came up and sat down next to them. “Excuse me, miss,” she muttered as her bag hit the other’s knees. The figure, a girl, grinned.  
“Don’t worry about it.” Her smile widening as one of the slim, gray buses pulled in. Just in time, she thought, catching sight of the larger group of men. Their beige uniforms blanding in amazingly well with the colorful background. The girl jumped up, startling the woman, and quickly got on the bus. Still grinning, she quickly found an empty window seat and leaned back for the show.  
The doors gilded close soundlessly as the first of the men showed up, much to their irritation, and the bus pulled away before they could get the driver to open the doors.  
“Happens all the time.”  
She grinned, casually pulling her hands out of the oversized coat. In her palm was a small, neon blue thumb drive. Her smile widened and a chuckle escaped. This, this was worth the chase. With gentle movements she placed the thumb drive back in her pocket and took out a triple folded piece of parchment. Unfolding it, she once more read over the words, trying to burn them into her memory.  
You have been invited to join the Party!  
The girl knew this was her chance. The Party was the first step to entering the Hollow Games. The winner of the Game received fame, fortune, and a legacy that few would ever hold. And it was going to be hers, she just knew it.  
Leaning back in the hard back seat, she settled in for the long ride. After all, it wouldn’t do if she was in a holding cell because she got off to soon and the policemen were still there.

 

Farther away in a little shop, another letter was also being read over. This has to be a joke. The frown deepened as the words were read through a fourth time. A terrible joke. I’ll get Joey back for this. The tinkling of the bell snapped him out of his planning.  
“With you in a moment,” he called. Setting the parchment aside, he straightened his shirt, brushed his hands through his hair, and double checked that there weren’t any wrinkles or stray pieces of lint on himself. Taking out a white cloth from one of the many cubbies lining the walls, he swiped it over both hands then the doorknob before entering the main room. Green eyes narrowed on the roll of paper towels that rested on the floor and a scowl worked itself across his face. He placed it back on its rightful shelf and strolled down each aisle, picking things up and placing them where they were supposed to go as he did. Empty.  
The door was closed, the silver bell above it still swaying slightly. The storage room was empty he knew, and behind the counter where the treatment room resided was also clear.  
“Another glancer, then,” he grumbled. J&D Fix It was one of several android and robotic part workshops in Downtown Cove. The area was, admittedly, more of a hotspot for partying and gambling than anything else with its flashing lights and constant music. But a workshop wasn’t that out there so they still did rather well business wise.  
The man’s scowl didn’t lighten in the least as he eyed the door again, watching said flashing lights disdainfully. Snorting, he turned his back to the door and began wiping the counter down. His mind wandered back to the smoothed paper, much to his disgust.  
Bring your tokens, bolts, and screws. The entertainment’s included!  
He didn’t know what was worse; losing all his cash or what the entertainment might be. Counter gleaming, he debated whether it was worth re-organizing the shelves again or if he should just leave the inevitable mess. Joey was more than due to sort everything.  
A grim smile spread across his face as he went back to plotting his revenge. Joey better watch out, he thought, gaze drifting towards the storage room door.  
A joke like this deserves something special, indeed  
.

Away from Downtown Cove, in a well kept park, a girl laughed. It was high-pitched and mocking, like broken glass. Her fists clenched tightly, she stared down at the other girls surrounding her.  
The one in front, the leader, sniffed and glared at the laughing girl smugly. Between them was a squat black table that flashed blue every few seconds.  
The leader reached over and casually moved one of the dime sized discs forward. Seconds later a holographic griffin stood in its place, looking both regal and bloodthirsty. The other girl glanced down, taking stock off the various colored discs in her lap, and tried cover up her wince with a smile. Brown eye darted up at the leader’s huffy giggle and narrowed. She picked up an acid green one and placed it several paces away from the griffin.  
Shimmering in its place was a thin, bony woman, her mouth gaping wide. The griffin screeched in pain as it disintegrated, the disc back and gray.  
Back and forth, the two played until only a single dragon remained. It shrieked in victory before fading out.  
“You, you cheated!” She stood up abruptly, not paying any attention to the stinging on the back of her legs. Instead she stared at the small pile of brass and gold colored coins. The leader scowled, already scooping up her winnings.   
“I did no such thing,” she said, ponytail bobbing as she shook her head. “Learn to take defeat gracefully, Lottie.” The leader stood up as well, brushed her skirt out and then skipped away, her posse following after her.  
I’ll beat her one day, she thought, slowly packing away the used discs. Her lips twitched as she carefully placed the discs on top of a folded piece of paper. I lost this game but I won’t lose the next one. I promise.  
Leaving the park, she kept one eye out for the other girls or anyone who wanted to try their hand with her. Practice, after all, made perfection. And the money never hurt, either.  
In the distance sirens cut through the air and the muffled sounds of another Scuffle could be heard the moment she stepped on the street. Got to love noise blockers. She winced in sympathy at a low groan but continued on her way. Stopping for a Scuffle could go one of two ways: winning money or on your way to the closest police station.  
Her eyes darted left and right before she crossed the lit up street. Her mind drifted back to the pretty words she had read, and hidden, earlier.  
Wear your finest, it’s a special occasion after all!  
Parties like these, she knew, usually involved drinking, dancing, and several unobservant, high class people. It wouldn’t be hard to start a few bets on the side. Maybe she should splurge and buy a new dress. After all, one can’t win any money if one doesn’t up their chances to the best they can be.  
Practice made perfection and she wasn’t going to lose this time, not by a long shot.

 

Cold wind drowned out the sounds of cat calls and laughter. Dark eyes scrunched in determination and a fierce grin stretched across numb cheeks as the crowd cheered wildly.  
“Twenty tokens on Smokes! Who wants twenty on Smokes?” A grubby, slouched man asked. In his hands was a dented box filled with multiple colored coins.  
“Fifteen bolts on the kid!” Another man shouted.  
“Fifteen? Lightweight couldn’t even make it to ten! Five screws.” The calls went back and forth, bronze and silver coins exchanging filthy hands just as frequently as the gold and platinum ones did.  
And at the center of the betting crowd was the main event. Two men, their backs facing the onlookers, stared the other down. The larger, older of the two grinned, the scar across his stubby chin making the gesture colder than it was supposed to be.  
“Now’s the time to back out. Kid,” he said. The younger man shook his head, eyes narrowed into slits as he watched the older man shrug and crack his knuckles.  
The man with the box scurried over to an equally dented bell and with a grimace, pulled the trigger.  
The older man charged, swinging his arm out towards the younger’s head while aiming a kick at his shins, trying to force him back.  
Ducking and diving, the young man smirked as the other’s fist hit the brick wall behind him. The other man didn’t so much as flinch before trying again with the same results.  
“Come on, kid, either fight or get out. There are other people willing to go at it.” The other man gritted his teeth as his fist once again hit nothing but air.  
The young man smirked, amusement and excitement flashing in his eyes.  
“Your funeral.”  
Rolling his shoulders, he ducked underneath the sloppy punch and swung his leg behind the man’s ankles. The man wobbled briefly before regaining his balance but that split second was all he needed. Launching himself at the older man, he swung his leg higher, knocking against the man’s shoulder and pushing him farther back. An uppercut to his jaw knocked him to the ground and the young man wasn’t no time in placing his foot on the other man’s chest, right below his collarbone.  
The young man watched stoically as the other’s face paled then reddened until it was nearly purple.   
“What do you take me for?” His voice was practically dripping venom as he tried shaking the younger’s foot off.  
“A fool, obviously,” he responded. “I told you it was your funeral.”  
He blinked as the other man roared, finally managing to knock him off balance enough and heave himself to his feet.  
“Guess I overstayed my welcome, huh?” Before the older man could move, he turned on his heel, snatched the dented box, and sprinted out of the warehouse. The shouting this time wasn’t the lighthearted jeers but more along the lines of calling him a cheater and thief. He spared enough attention to know if someone was following him as he ran farther down the street. Nothing good comes from sticking around, that much he knew.  
The young man slowed to a jog then ducked behind a corner, snickering. He was confident that anyone pursuing him would have given up by now.  
Opening the box, he quickly counted the coins before stuffing them inside his jacket. His fingers brushed against the edges of a folded piece of paper, his thoughts drifting back to those words he had tried to forget.  
The only things you need to bring are a sense of adventure and a willingness to join the fun!  
He swallowed thickly, glowering at the dirty concrete and walls. A willingness to join the fun? More like a willingness not to be the same.  
His scowl didn’t lighten as he slipped out from the nook and headed towards the docks. He shivered and burrowed deeper into his coat. Not even the the rapidly cooling air made him as cold as what those words might entailed.

 

Up towards High Cycle near Klick Harbor, people walked to and fro, laughing and chatting as they past shops and restaurants that had their doors open. One such restaurant was Barton’s.  
Pots and pans clanged together as steam rose up, blanketing the kitchen like a fog. Berries in wine sauce, broiled vegetables with steamed duck, potato puffs that were too soft to hold thick brown gravy. Clashing and clanking, knives being sharpened and dishes being washed, it all was overlaid with multiple people yelling.  
“Next dish,” someone called which was answered with an affirmative from someone else.  
“I need the butter sauce, who has it?”  
“Plate’s ready!”  
“Artichokes are done and the mussels are almost there.” A young man stood to the side if the bustle, a spoon in one hand and a scowl on his lips. “For the last time, who has the butter sauce?”  
His blue eyes narrowed until a pan was thrust towards him. “Finally,” he muttered, dishing out the next several plates.  
The constant noise continued on well past closing time as the chefs finished cleaning and gathering their things. “See you tomorrow, Jackson.” The young man huffed and raised a hand as the door closed, leaving him alone. He spun around, taking in the glistening countertops and the last of the dishes in the drainer. Rolling up his sleeves, he began methodically drying and putting everything away until only his jacket and bag were left.  
Another look around proved that he was, in fact, alone. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a slightly crumpled letter. Smoothing it out, he skimmed over it briefly before reading it again.  
“Enjoy the finest cooking, huh?” He stared at the words before shrugging and stuffing it once more into his coat.  
“Sounds like fun.” He quickly threw on his coat before turning out the lights. The back door swung noiselessly before clicking shut. “I look forward to seeing that so called ‘fine cooking.’”  
The words were lost in the haze of car horns and sirens but he still felt their presence keenly. The young man shuffled down the street, eyes downcast as he watched the embedded lights switch colors, the dark glass softening their effect emersley.  
He shuddered, pulling his jacket tighter.  
The rest of the letter searing itself into his brain, wiggling and squishing itself between common sense and doubt.  
$100,000,000 tokens as the reward. Don’t forget to bring your invite to Hollows Grove to be welcomed in. No more needed to be added, the cheerful threat was plenty.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this.


End file.
